


One Word

by MagicalRogue912



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, Gay, Gay Sex, Hunting, M/M, Monsters, MxM - Freeform, Sam Winchester - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalRogue912/pseuds/MagicalRogue912
Summary: His day started out normal, and then, every thing changed with one word.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/OC/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 3





	One Word

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Sam Winchester x OC x Dean Winchester.

It had been a normal day for Brent Hudson, normal in every way. He woke up early, as per usual, showered, got dressed into his work clothes, a pair of black skinny jeans, black work boots, with the pant legs tucked into them, and a black button up that is probably a size to small. The top two buttons are undone like they usually are, his shirt is tucked into his jeans and its sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He drank his normal coffee, ate his usual hot pocket, and drove in his very normal Honda Civic to work. He pulled into his usual parking spot, locked his car and walked towards his very normal job at a local restaurant. His wavy blonde hair blown in the wind on the way into the restaurant, barely held in place by the small amount of hairspray he put in it, just like normal. So why did he feel like today, isn't normal.

Stepping into the restaurant Brent can already tell something is off, everything looks the same, Christine is laughing in her high pitched country tinged laugh with her guests, Carrie is tapping on the bar top counter as she waits for our morning Bartender Stef to make her drinks. The familiar sound of I wanna dance with Somebody is playing over the speakers, the same song that will probably play an additional four times before the day is done. He can hear the Cook, Brandon, shout for a runner in the kitchen, and can spot Kylee dip into the back, a flash of her purple Juul slipping from her pocket into her hand. Everything is absolutely normal for a Saturday morning at Appledee's, and yet, as he looks around, he can't help but feel like something is off, like a small part of him is saying that your life is never going to be the same again. It really is such a eerie feeling, to know that something isn't right, but not being able to tell what it is.

Walking up behind Christine as she moves over to a computer and swipes her card, Brent smiles and places a light kiss on her wrinkled cheek, her being old enough to be his Grandmother, he's gotten quite close to her over the last four years of working together. She smiles and elbows him in the ribs lightly, "I honey, how are you today?!"

Chuckling at her constantly perky voice he swipes his own card on the computer next to hers and clocks in as the PM Bartender and closes out the tab. Looking at Christine he shrugs and leans up against the counter, "I don't know Christini (Intentional, pronounced Chris-Teeny.), just have this feeling, like something is going to happen... and I don't know what."

Chuckling she places a hand on his cheek and he smiles, her motherly touch always calming to him. "Don't worry about it too much Sweety, unless it feels ominous or like you are in danger, just let it happen, you never know what could happen. You could meet the one... wouldn't that be nice?!"

Scoffing he pats her hand and she pulls it away with a smile, Brent shakes his head, "I've got to much to worry about right now, finding Mr. Right is about as far from the top of my list as it can get."

Sighing the perky blonde shakes her head and moves towards the entrance to the kitchen, "Just... don't let that list of yours keep you from enjoying life."

Breathing deeply Brent enters the bar and looks at Stef who is now counting her drawer, and a large slip of paper prints from the receipt printer. Grabbing it, he look at it and smirks, "You were pretty busy today, six hundred and twenty five in gross sales, not as busy as I was yesterday. Eight hundred and sixty-two, pay up."

Pulling out his own check out slip from yesterday morning he hands it to her and as she reads it she purses her  
lips, her eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. "Damn it Brent... how? we had the same amount of guests, how the hell did you do more in sales?"

Shrugging he pulls the fifty from Stef's outstretched hand and chuckles, "My parents used to tell me I could sell coke to a cop and not get in trouble... I'm really good at up-selling."

She chuckles and pulls out her drawer, "Fine, but next week, I'll win, I'll wager a hundred."

Nodding with a knowing smirk on his face Brent holds out his hand, "You're on."

She starts heading towards the back and Brent slowly begins washing the dishes, a shit ton of used glass line the wash sink area and he knows that she will probably never do any of them, so, he does them. The dish Barmaid broke a long time ago, it use to function like all the other barmaid, and would wash the dishes on it's own. Somewhere along the way, it broke, and now they have to clean them by hand on the brushes attached to the Barmaid. It's tedious, especially since you have to basically hunch over in order actually wash them, and you have to pump the glasses onto the bristled brushes. So that means, unless the bartender is actively paying attention to the bar around them, glancing up or behind them, said Bartender won't know if someone is there. So for one of the few times in his career, he didn't notice the two gentleman who took a seat behind him at the bar, until he heard one of them clear his throat. Startled, he stands up and spins towards the source of the noise, and he nearly chokes at the sight in front of him. Two men, in their late twenties at least, both drop dead gorgeous. One is extremely tall, taller than himself, which is unusual for the six foot man, he has nearly shoulder length chestnut brown hair, light stubble, and high cheekbones. His eyes are a pretty shade of hazel, but almost look green in the natural light coming through the windows, and despite his tall stature, he doesn't even try to hide the muscles beneath his large flannel button up, the top few buttons undone and showing a sculpted chest, not enough to show much, but enough to tease the person noticing it. The best part about him though, is that he's basically nose deep in a book, Brent can't see what it's called, but it's easily a few hundred pages long. 

Now if the gorgeous giant is a sexy nerd, then the one that's more Brent's height, he's more of a bad boy, spiked up dirty blonde hair, similarly high cheekbones, and striking green eyes and almost seem to change colors in the light, from green to hazel but always return to that bright green. He can see a light dust of freckles across his cheeks and nose, as well as light stubble, not that the other man doesn't have stubble, but for some reason, it just works from the this one. He's wearing what looks like a black jacket over what looks like a gray button up and a blue t-shirt under that, how he's not dying of heat stroke is a mystery, but Brent just can't get over how attractive these two men are. Yet he has a job to do, grabbing two glass napkins, he smiles bright and chuckles, "I'm sorry about that gentlemen, just changed shifts, still trying to figure out how the bar was left for me today, my name is Brent, I'll be your Bartender today, what can I get for you two?"

The shaggy haired giant smiles, "Uh we won't be drinking, we actually have a few questions for you, if you don't mind?"

Frowning when he pulls out a badge, the shorter one follows suit and he has to hide his surprise at the fact that both of them apparently work for the FBI. The shorter one smirks, "I'm Agent Johnson, that's Agent Singer, we were hoping you could tell us about a Ms. Lana Hillsman."

frown in recognition, Brent nods. "Yeah, she's my old Boss. She was the GM here about three months ago before she quit, why? Is she in trouble?"

Agent Singer smiles sadly, "I'm sorry to tell you this, but... Lana's body was found two nights ago, she's dead."

A rock falls into his stomach and he has to lean against the bar top, he barely hears some of the other servers gasp and head into the back, and as much as he wants to do the same, he knows he can't leave, not that they won't follow. Shaking his head, Brent looks up at them, both are looking slightly concerned and Brent has to blink a few times to clear the tears from his eyes. "H-how did it happen?"

Agent Johnson shakes his head, "We're not entirely sure, but... it looks like she was...decapitated and her body was..."  
Waving his hands he barely resists the urge to vomit, horror courses through his veins like magma, but it chills his very core. Then he remember something that brings his heart to a stop. "S-she has two kids, are... are they..."

Agent Singer closes his eyes and Agent Johnson nods, "They were found... the same way."

This time he can't hold it down and he runs towards the bar garbage, and anything he ate today is heaved into the can. He hears two sets of footsteps and feels a hand on his upper back. Looking up at the tall Agent, he looks down at me sadly and all Brent can do is stand up and head towards the back exit, waving for the two men to follow, he grabs the community pack of gum as well as a bottle of water from the host stand before pushing open the side door. Moving quickly he sits down on the curb and doesn't even look up when the two agents sit on either side of him. Shaking his head he swallows several mouthfuls of water and then pops two pieces of gum into his mouth, the fresh mint flavor somewhat masking the puke taste in his mouth. Taking a few seconds to breathe, he's glad the Agents let him and eventually sighs, "Why... why would someone do this? Do you know who did this, and why Lana, she... she was amazing."

Agent Johnson sighs and shakes his head, "No we don't know who did it, yet, but we'll figure it out, but... we do know who they're going after next."

Looking up at him from his hunched position, "Who?"

He pulls out a photo from his coat pocket and hands it to me and as I stare at it, my heart is beating a thousand times a minute, more bile pools in my stomach and my blood freezes. There is writing on the photo, 'He's Next!' and I look over at Agent Johnson, "Me?!"

He nods and look back down at the photo, it's a candid shot, taken from a window in his house, he's just getting out of the shower, the photo is cut off so no one can see anything below the waist, but the fact that this person took this photo of him, without him knowing... it causes every fiber of his being to shiver, and it's like someone poured ice water into his veins. Shaking his head he rips up the photo and throws it to the wind, "W-what do we do? How do we stop them?!"

Steeling his voice he sits up straight and looks at the taller of the two, Agent Singer frowns, "Brent, we have to get you into protection, we'll find wh..."

Cutting him off, Brent stands up and shakes his head, "No, I won't hide... I'm not going to hide from this person, so either you let me help you find this asshole, or I'll look for myself, either way, I'm gonna get this guy before he gets me."

Both of them look like they're gonna argue but Brent spins around and starts heading towards his car, his keys already in his hand. Shouting over his shoulder when he hears two sets of feet following him. "I'm heading home, if you want, one of you can stay with me to make sure I don't die, and then we can start hunting this fucker."

Hearing quiet voices talk, one of the sets of feet slowly fade away and the other speeds up and falls in sync with his. Looking at the man next to him he smiles at Agent Singer, who is looking very conflicted. "This isn't a good idea, you could get killed, you should stay where it's safe. Where we can protect you..."

Brent shrugs, "I could get killed walking across the street, and don't get me wrong, I'm terrified, absolutely terrified, but... staying still, hiding, what if that's exactly what this person is waiting for, for me to think I'm safe, protected, secure, so he can find me and kill me then. I'm not gonna sit around and wait to die Agent Singer, I refuse, I refuse to let this happen. I just got my life back together, and this dickhead is not gonna end it before I get to enjoy it."

The taller man sighs in defeat, "I... I understand, fine, you can help us. But... we'll have to have a talk when Agent Johnson meets us at your place, and... you'll have to prepare yourself for what you're gonna hear, you won't like it... you might not even believe it."

Frowning in confusion, Brent stops next to the driver's side door, "What do you mean?"

The Agent smiles weakly, "Just... you'll find out in a little while, but... first things first, my name is Sam."

Pulling open his door Brent smiles back at him, but more sincerely, "Sam... I like it. It suits you."

He smiles wider, and opens his own door, "Thanks, ready to go?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All people in this story are inspired by people I know in real life, different names, but similar personalities.


End file.
